


With You Till The End

by octoberland



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Not Happy, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:10:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3636198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octoberland/pseuds/octoberland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He promised he'd always take care of her. He meant it till the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With You Till The End

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt in which an anon asked for Daryl taking care of an injured Carol. I know this isn't what they meant but it's what came to mind. TW for mentions of violence and blood. No hea. No copyright infringement intended. Thank you for reading.

"I’m out!" she yelled.

They were standing back to back, surrounded by walkers. It was one of those stupid things, one of those moments in life when you should have turned left instead of right or vice versa. It was the type of thing you had no way of knowing. Like getting stuck in traffic on the way to the airport and then finding out the plane you missed crashed.

The roar of the dead was deafening. They moaned and snarled, their teeth gnashed, bodies slamming up against wood and glass, making it shatter. It wouldn’t hold and they had nowhere to go. They’d been separated from the others by a herd. Without vehicles, with the weather the way it had been, well, the cards were stacked against them and they knew it. They’d been hoping the little cabin maybe had a cellar or an attic. They were wrong.

Daryl’s crossbow fell to the floor of the one room cabin, useless, arrows spent and irretrievable.

"How many you got left?" Carol asked over the cacophony. She pulled out her knife, not that it would do much good.

Daryl checked the magazine of the pistol he carried as backup.

"Two," he said. He pulled one out and turned to her.

"Well, ain’t that grand," she replied. Carol’s strong veneer cracked as she took the bullet from him, face flashing between fear and despair.

They’d talked about this, the way you’d talk about retirement or 401k’s over orange juice in a sunlit kitchen, like it was normal. Just something you had to do. They’d agreed that neither one of them wanted to come back, not like that. They’d made a pact. Whichever of them was last man standing; they’d make damn sure the other never batted so much as an eyelash again.

Carol tucked her knife away and loaded the bullet into her gun, fighting back tears as she did so. Still, her lips quivered and her eyes watered.

"H-how?" she said, voice shaking.

"Same time," said Daryl, voice steady.

Just then they heard a loud cracking noise. The door was starting to give way from the weight of all the walkers. They didn’t have much time.

Their eyes locked. Tears slid down Carol’s dirty cheeks, and Daryl’s breaths came thick and loud, like an animal before slaughter.

"On three?" she asked. The gun shook in her hand as she held it to her temple.

Daryl nodded, held his own gun to his head.

"One…"

Carol used her free hand to grab onto Daryl’s free hand.

"Two…"

"You’re a good man…" she croaked out quick as she could between counts. Daryl squeezed her hand, small sad smile ghosting his lips.

"Three."

The sound of the shot echoed in the small room sending the walkers into a frenzy. They slammed their bodies against the small, old building, rotting wood no match for their hunger. Daryl flinched, the tears finally coming as Carol’s body went limp against him. He lowered her to the ground, cradling her as they went. He knew if he’d told her there was only one bullet left she’d use it on him. He couldn’t let her die like that, torn limb from limb, screaming in agony. He knew she thought she was going to hell. In his mind, least he could do was a peaceful ticket there, figured he’d see her soon enough anyway.

As the room filled with walkers, Daryl focused all his attention on Carol. He brushed back a lock of bloodied hair, tried to ignore the gaping wound in her head, and forced himself to think back on happier times.

"I liked you second," he whispered right before they tore into him.


End file.
